


cherry blunt wrap

by aelins



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First daughter aelin, Fluff and Smut, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Weed, president rhoe galathynius, they smoke a lot of weed together ok?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelins/pseuds/aelins
Summary: Rowan’s eyes boggle, and he scowls. “I’m not in the business of selling FDOTUS a bag of weed. I like my scholarship money.”Aelin sighs, “Give me a bag or I’m telling on you, and you’re very lucky I’m not being tailed by three secret service agents who would have seen that and hauled you off.”Rowan swears softly, takes her thirty bucks, and stuffs a bag of weed in her hand, swearing softly. “You drive a hard bargain,” he grouses, rubbing the back of his neck, and trying to pretend he’s not checking her out.“I’m early for class---”“And you want someone to smoke with?”
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Kudos: 33





	1. cherries

**Author's Note:**

> i blaspheme very hard today

It’s finals time at school, and college students seem to lose their damn minds--Aelin Galathynius, the President’s daughter is no doubt among them. She’s in the parking lot, as she’s walking in and sees a very obvious drug deal, she hopes they know the premises are videotaped. 

She discreetly wanders over to the hulking male who’d very apparently just sold some weed to his friend-- “Excuse me,” Aelin says, and she looks at the man’s face, and a little feminine gasp escapes her lips, oh fuck-- he was hot. She’d been expecting--well of course he was hot that was just her luck wasn’t it? 

“Yeah?” Rowan Whitethorn, the Captain of the Clemson football team, and zillion time champion spoke. She thought she’d heard the voice of God. His face is screwed up into a frown. “You’re barking up the wrong tree--” Recognition sparks in his eyes as he realizes who he’s speaking to. 

“Oh, I think I’m barking up the  _ right tree _ Mr. Whitethorn.” She holds her hand out and fishes thirty bucks from her pocket, “A bag if you please.” 

Rowan’s eyes boggle, and he scowls. “I’m not in the business of selling FDOTUS a bag of weed. I like my scholarship money.” 

Aelin sighs, “Give me a bag or I’m telling on you, and you’re very lucky I’m not being tailed by three secret service agents who would have seen that and hauled you off.” 

Rowan swears softly, takes her thirty bucks, and stuffs a bag of weed in her hand, swearing softly. “You drive a hard bargain,” he grouses, rubbing the back of his neck, and trying to pretend he’s not checking her out. 

“I’m early for class---” 

“And you want someone to smoke with?”

Aelin laughs, a sweet, tinkling laugh, “You do think a lot of yourself don’t you sweetheart?” 

Rowan grins, “I do.” 

Aelin had never been so--she wasn’t angry, but she hadn’t expected this to turn into what it had. She hadn’t expected him to be so hot and to not sneer down his nose at her. 

So they head over to Rowan’s brand new truck, and he takes out a blunt wrap, cherry unless she’s very mistaken. Good, he had some taste she hated the burnt taste of a bowl. 

He holds his hand out for her weed and she hands it over. He talks to her while he rolls, asks her what her major was, and they exchange information,  _ you know in case you needed any more weed _ . Rowan gives her a happy smile, and he hands her the blunt and turns on some soft music. They’re way in the back of the parking lot, and no one can really see them, his windows are tinted too. 

She thinks she’d like to get to know him better, especially because things had started out so strange. She lights the blunt and inhales, sweet smoke filling her lungs. 

She doesn’t cough, but the smoke  _ is  _ strong. “Jesus, that’s good shit,” Aelin swears. She sits with it for a long moment, smoking half the blunt her face, and then hands it over to Rowan, “All yours.” 

Rowan quirks an eyebrow. “You want a shotgun?” 

Aelin laughs nervously. “Isn’t that like a stupid way to get kissed?” 

Rowan laughs, and he looks like he’s going to say something--but pauses and doesn’t, he takes her hand in his and squeezes, rubbing his big thumb over the soft spots on her hand. 

Aelin would like to kiss him now--but they’ve accidentally hotboxed his car, and she smells--like fucking weed. 

“Fuck,” Aelin swears, “I can’t go to microbio like this.” 

Rowan squeezes her hand, “Let me drive you home--” 

“You idiot,” Aelin swears, and then she’s laughing. “I live in the White House!” 

“Oh my god-- the president is going to murder me. I got his daughter high.” But then Rowan is laughing too, and nothing matters, because he’s hot and she likes the sound of his laughter. 

She’s on him in a moment. Her hand going to his thigh, and then somehow--somehow she’s in his lap, a masculine snarl tearing from Rowan’s lips. “I should have known this would happen.” 

Aelin fidgets for a moment, “Does that mean you don’t want it to happen?” 

Rowan kisses her, and that's answer enough, they  _ devour  _ each other and Aelin tries to remind herself that Rowan probably just wants a fast fuck.  _ Which she is definitely not _ . It’d be her first time, and she--can’t. 

“Hey, hey,” Aelin says, trying to slow them both down because she wants this badly. She brushes her fingers against Rowan’s jaw and they catch their breath, his hand is still on her tit though. 

“I don’t want to--” 

Rowan nods, “I’m so sorry---” 

“No, don’t be sorry, I totally would but I’m a lowkey…” Aelin flushes bright red, “Virgin.” 

Rowan’s mouth forms a small “O”.

“Babe,” He says affectionately, and it’s like he gets it--losing your virginity while high and in some loser drug dealer’s car is just about as low as it gets.

She’s already disentangling them, and climbing out of his towering truck. 

He waves to her as she goes. 

*~*~* 

Rowan had invited her to his football game. 

She had said she had  _ FDOTUS  _ duties to attend to--a state dinner. 

Rowan had sent her a bunch of sobbing emojis, and then he’d said,  _ I can’t get you out of my head, why don’t we go out for drinks after, just me and you? _

_ You’d ditch your stupid cadre for me _ ? 

_ Yup. _

She knew this was the beginning of something forever and she was so happy she might be able to hold onto Rowan. 


	2. a hard truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowan's past is dug up after a brief courtship. Things get difficult before they are lovely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil angst.

Christmas comes in a rush that year. It seems like the first of December comes and goes in a flurry of finals and picking out classes for next semester. Aelin gets stuck with a nine o’clock organic chemistry class and thinks she’d prefer a slow, agonizing death. There’s two weeks before Christmas all of a sudden, and she’s agonizing over something for Rowan. They’d known each other all of three weeks, and she couldn’t decide if they should even exchange gifts. 

What did you get the boy who had everything he wanted? 

She’s out at a cafe, having lunch with Rowan, and chatting about his final grades when the answer comes to her, she almost drops her cappuccino on the ground. The answer is so simple. 

Rowan gives her a quizzical look, “I don’t know what’s got you so jumpy.” 

Aelin straightened her saucer. “I’m fine.” They were at an exclusive little cafe, which took reservations. They’d gotten a table, and Rowan had treated her to cappuccino and a slice of cake. 

Rowan snorts, “Sure you are.” 

She gives him a look that reads  _ I’m not discussing this _ . 

Rowan throws up his hands, “Whatever.” 

“Are we exchanging gifts?” Aelin asks, a bit more enthusiastically than she’d meant. Something lights in her eyes and Rowan being the asshole with a heart of gold he is--

Rowan seems to ponder it for a moment, and she wonders if she’s already overstepped, “I already got you something, honestly.” 

Her heart soars, “Rowan!” She says in a squeaky tone of voice that makes his cheeks pink. 

He shrugs, “I wanted it to be a surprise, it didn’t occur to me that we might not be exchanging gifts.” 

Aelin’s gift suddenly seems pretty silly, because Rowan is speaking as if it’s something big. Aelin had plenty of money, but what was she supposed to give him? Her original plan seems so lame. 

But it was the only thing she could think to give him. 

_ They didn’t call it sexmas for nothing _ . 

*~*~* 

Somehow she was falling hard and fast for Rowan, she didn’t realize it but he was falling for her too. They text  _ a lot _ . He says good morning when he first rolls out of bed in the morning and goodnight when they go to bed and frequently fall asleep talking about what they want to do with their lives, what their dreams are. 

Rowan is even getting used to her little entourage of Secret Service agents. 

Chaol, Dorian, and Sorcha are the three that work days and are the friendliest. They’re all in their late thirties and early forties--and essentially act like three extra parents to Aelin. 

They’re at school for a friend’s graduation, and Rowan is getting geared up for a game later that night. He barely got any time off for Christmas with his football schedule. They were going to the playoffs--and Rowan would be their quarterback. 

Rowan has an arm wrapped around Aelin while they’re eating lunch, when they’re done-- Rowan groans low in Aelins ear, “I want to fuck you so badly.” 

Aelin turns pink, “I want to fuck you too, but we can just wait--” 

Sorcha comes to collect Aelin for class, they’d been hovering more often. 

“Aelin, a word?” Sorcha asks. 

Aelin groans, “Sorch, just a minute ok? And Lys’ graduation is in like two hours.” 

“I’m afraid it really can’t wait,” Sorcha says, sounding a little sour. 

Aelin kisses Rowan, making something of a show of it, and flocks off to the hallway with Sorcha. 

Sorcha taps her foot, “Your  _ friend _ , is being vetted by our background checkers. He has a criminal record and the president wants to see you.” 

Aelin shakes her head, “So basically I’m in a whole lot of trouble?” 

Sorcha nods gravely, “‘fraid so. And you’re not permitted to see him again.” 

Aelin is fairly sure the world has stopped turning. Dorian appears and is clearly speaking into his earpiece, he looks like a man on a mission. “Hey princess,” Dorian says, his face a hard line. 

“Dorian--! They can’t really make me go all the way to D.C. for this stupid--” 

“He’s got a record from a juvenile detention center,” Dorian shrugs, “he’s not good for you to be around.” 

Aelin feels tears burn the backs of her eyes, “But--” 

“No buts, princess, let’s go.” Dorian’s voice is soft and soothing. 

And Aelin doesn’t know it but Rowan is watching as she’s essentially dragged from the hallway. 

He knew it was too good to be true. 

*~*~* 

Rowan attends Lys’ graduation ceremony and gives Aelin’s best friend the flowers Aelin had bought her. They were beautiful, and Lysandra was more than a little upset that President Galathynius had ruined her graduation. 

He mopes around, already knowing what they’d found on him, he’d known he wouldn’t pass the  _ vetting _ process which is why he hadn’t volunteered for it. 

He’s sitting at the same table at the exclusive cafe he and Aelin were at just a few days ago when the bell to the front of the cafe dings, it’s otherwise empty, and Aelin is standing there, trying to dust off snow from her high heeled boots. 

Rowan doesn’t know what overtakes him but he feels like he wants to flip the damn table. This was  _ their  _ place. They’d been coming here on dates for weeks. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Your friend Fenrys told me you’d be here moping,” Aelin said, calling over a waiter and sitting down. 

“I didn’t think you were allowed to speak to me?” Rowan says as she sits down and takes her coat off. 

She’s wearing a pretty sweater dress, and it’s form-fitting and leaves very little to the imagination. “My father might be the most protective asshat on the planet,” Aelin pauses and looks up at Rowan, “but we did a little digging.”

Rowan knows better than to be outraged, she was a beloved president’s daughter, of course, they would go out of their way to protect her from scum like him. 

“You got caught with hard drugs when you were thirteen at school and got sent to juvie. What the paperwork failed to mention was that your mother had recently died and your father had a cocaine problem the size of Texas.” Aelin gives a little shrug, “I don’t think it takes a genius to know your father is an asshole and misplaced his supply while he was high, probably slipped it into your backpack.” 

There were tears in Rowan’s eyes, and his bottom lip was wobbling precariously. 

Aelin shushed him and held him as sobs wracked his strong powerful body. “He never wanted me,” Rowan said between sobs. 

“I’m sorry I pried.” 

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

But then, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was looking into Rowan Whitethorn’s eyes, the leaf green of his eyes boring into her, and the winter and pine smell of him soaked into her. 

“You’re invited for Christmas,” Aelin says, “And you’re always welcome in the White House.” 

Rowan sighs, and nods, wiping his eyes. 

  
  
“How mad at me would you be if I said you had to wait until Christmas to…” 

Rowan beams, “I have something for you too, for Christmas. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, these past few weeks I’ve been so happy.” 

Aelin’s cappuccino comes and they have to behave. 

“No cake?” Rowan asks.

Aelin laughs and they order two slices of chocolate hazelnut cake. 

They are happy. 


	3. i could be someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowaelin happy ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!

Christmas morning the White House comes in fits and starts. Rowan Whitethorn wakes up in a separate bedroom from Aelin’s -- at her father’s request that they not consummate their relationship within earshot of him. It’s warm, and there’s a fire lit in the grate. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Aelin sashays in, “Morning, handsome.” She croons. “Oh it’s warm in here, they never light the fires in my room.” She frowns, “I set a carpet on fire when I was younger and they never forgot it.” She laughs, and Rowan thinks he’d like to bottle the sound and get drunk on it. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Rowan asks, it’s only six in the morning. 

Aelin gives Rowan a look, half unreadable half desire, “I came to give you your present.” 

And just like that heat is roiling through him. 

Aelin shuts the door and lets her ugly, thick pink robe drop to the floor. 

She locks the door. 

Rowan feels like he’s ready to absolutely combust. “I’m,” he means to say, unprepared, “---I don’t have a condom.” 

Aelin shrugs, “Maybe I don’t want you to use one.” 

Rowan, to his credit, doesn't nut right there. 

Aelin teases him, giving him a slight striptease, and when she reveals the crotchless panties she’s wearing, bright pink so close to the color of her pussy…. Rowan is sure he’s drooling. 

She is an angel in the softest of ways. Her full breasts are heavy and aching with the need to be touched. She might be a party girl… but she’d always been careful. Never giving away much of herself to anyone. But she wanted to give it all… to Rowan. 

Rowan reaches forward, tentatively, and asks, “Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

Aelin’s cheeks burn, “Of course.” 

So Rowan rolls out of bed and leans down to cup her breasts through the corset she’s wearing. The corset is black and the panties pink… it’s the perfect juxtaposition of her softness and cockiness. He loves her. 

He kisses her, his mouth exploring, teasing, testing. 

Aelin whimpers in his arms, and she explains, “No one’s ever touched me like that like they want to never stop touching me.” 

Rowan nods, and sweetly tells her, “I love you, and no matter what my past is, no matter your future I will be there. I will share in every moment I can. There is no limit to what I can give you, you are the whole of my heart.” 

Aelin moves Rowan’s hand to where she’d seen him look several times, to the soft, tight, pink folds of her pussy. Just being touched there--it’s a lot. He’s a lot. And she wonders how someone who she’d thought was nothing but a jerk could hold the keys to her heart. 

She loved him in return, and she simply blinks slowly, and her mouth curving into a smile. 

“Please?” Is her only response. There are no words she has, no words for this, for the love swelling in her chest. 

Rowan nods, and brings her over to the bed. “Do you want to be on top?” Rowan’s cheeks burn pink. 

He was so thoughtful, “Yeah I heard it can be nice for your first time.” 

So Rowan softens her with his mouth, and when he’s done with her, she’s biting the back of her hand with force to keep the entire Secret Service staff from coming running at her moans. 

“Baby,” Aelin croons, when Rowan comes up for air, he’d let her sit on his face, and she’s ridden him to oblivion. 

“I need to be inside you,” Rowan says in that deep, rumbling tone that makes her pussy simply drench. 

Aelin nods and they get into position, and Rowan helps her line himself up with her, she holds onto his shoulders, as her powerful thighs lower her down on him. He rubs her clit in soft circles, and gods above, it doesn’t even hurt. There’s a slight feeling of tightness like she wouldn’t be able to take him, but this? This was heaven. 

She lingers for a long moment, and Rowan kisses her, ever patient, until she shifts her hips and realizes she’s only half seated in him. “Oh--” 

The slight curve of Rowan’s cock was hitting something secret inside her. Her thighs shake as she sinks further down on him, she hears Rowan groan, in agonizing pleasure. 

And when she’s fully seated on him, she gives him a little nod, and she caresses his face. Then she buries her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, while he tops from the bottom. He sets a slower pace, slow and sensual and the pleasure building at the heart of her is all-consuming, wonderful, and feels like a bright building. 

“Rowan,” she gasps, meeting him stroke for stroke. “Harder.” 

And he obliges, and soon she feels herself tightening impossibly around him. “Aelin,” Rowan moans, “I’m going to--” 

Aelin caresses his cheek, and whispers in his ear from her place astride him, “Come for me.” 

So Rowan does, and the welcome warmth of his cock and his come inside her is--the most magnificent thing she’s ever felt. She falls off the edge moments later, fuck, it was heaven and hell. Hell because it lasted what felt like forever and not long at all. Heaven because she would never forget Rowan’s kindness, his compassion, his need to make this a good experience. 

They lay there, sticky and sated for a long moment. 

Rowan blows out a breath, ruffling her hair. 

“That was… amazing.” 

Aelin kisses him. “Merry Christmas.” 

The gift Rowan has for Aelin, later that morning shocks everyone. 

He proposes. 

She says yes, a thousand times, yes. 

And they graduate, they go on to be powerful people in their own rights. Rowan wins the championships in the NFL. And he always has his wife to celebrate with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on [tumblr?](https://danaanruhn.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me, i’d love to hear form you on social media [tumblr ](https://danaanruhn.tumblr.com) / [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/pincelings_) / [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/danaanruhn) / [tiktok](https://www.tiktok.com/@ruhns)


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